


like the north star itself

by raewrites



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Blow Jobs, Hand Jobs, M/M, NSFW, brief mentions of ass-eating, brief mentions of frottage, congrations i done it
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-10
Updated: 2016-07-10
Packaged: 2018-07-22 20:22:07
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,068
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7452727
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/raewrites/pseuds/raewrites
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p><i>“You got plans, big guy?” Lance asks, grinning crookedly as he lifts his legs and hooks them around Hunk’s back, pulling him forward. Hunk stifles a laugh, opting to comment on the sharp boniness of Lance’s ankles instead, earning a half-hearted kick and a declaration to fight in return.</i><br/> <br/>“I’d win in a fight against you.” Hunk says, leaning over Lance to press the words against the flushed skin and fluttery pulse of the other’s neck, “I’d toss you over my shoulder like a sack of spare parts.”</p><p>  <i>     Lance makes a low noise in the back of his throat like he wouldn’t particularly mind this.</i></p>
            </blockquote>





	like the north star itself

**Author's Note:**

> this is the result of several days of hunk/lance induced crisis
> 
> largely influenced by this [art](http://nosotrys.tumblr.com/post/146927319241/please-consider-hunk-with-islander-tattoos-and)
> 
> dedicated to my memey mcwives, [caroline](http://cloven.tumblr.com/) and [femi](http://kurodai.co.vu/), who did absolutely nothing to suppress the fire

 Lance’s breaths echo off the close walls of the sleep pod, lewd reverberations knitted between the soft slide of sheets.   
  
     “Fuck, fuck, _fuck.”_ Lance moans, voice strained and cracking on the last, elongated curse. Hunk lifts his head from the spread of Lance’s ass cupped in his palms, adjusting to slide his fingers up Lance’s sides in gentle, methodic figure eights.  
  
     “Hey, hey, hey.” Hunk hushes, leaning down to press his lips to the small of Lance’s back, the dip of the other’s olive skin flushed red and beaded with sweat, “You alright?”  
  
     Lance mumbles into the sheets, fingers kneading the mattress as he lets out a rush of breath, tilting his head to press his cheek into the bed and look back at Hunk over his shoulder. Hunk swallows hard, an exhilarating flash of emotion flaring at the base of his gut when Lance lets out an obscenely wanton noise.  
  
     “M’yeah.” Lance replies, the syllable drawn out in another dry sigh, arching his back and stretching his elbows further out in front of his head, almost cat-like in execution, including all but a purr, “It feels so good I might _die,_ dude. You’re so fucking _good_ at this.”  
  
Hunk preens despite himself, a fluttery giddiness flourishing beneath the cage of his ribs at Lance’s praise, and he fights the urge to grin from ear to ear.   
  
     Encouraged, Hunk offers Lance’s ass a quick slap and nudges the other's hip with his thumb, “Turn over for a sec.”  
  
     Lance makes an excessively pitiful noise of contention, but ultimately complies, flopping onto his back. While Hunk is unsure Lance is capable on anything but splaying his long limbs every which way, he nevertheless appreciates the spread of the other’s legs under him, arms tossed in a wild tangle above his head.  
  
     “You got plans, big guy?” Lance asks, grinning crookedly as he lifts his legs and hooks them around Hunk’s back, pulling him forward. Hunk stifles a laugh, opting to comment on the sharp boniness of Lance’s ankles instead, earning a half-hearted kick and a declaration to fight in return.  
  
     “I’d win in a fight against you.” Hunk says, leaning over Lance to press the words against the flushed skin and fluttery pulse of the other’s neck, “I’d toss you over my shoulder like a sack of spare parts.”  
  
     Lance makes a low noise in the back of his throat like he wouldn’t particularly mind this. He tilts his head to nuzzle against Hunk’s temple, sifting through dark tufts of hair there to find the curve of Hunk’s ear and whisper, “But I’m scrappy.” Hunk hums in interest, the vibrations against the jut of Lance’s throat making the other squirm and let out a breathy exclamation, “Mm, and I have elbows of _steel._ ” Lance continues, lifting his arms and bending them at a right angle as demonstration before dropping them to hook lazily around Hunk’s neck, “And I’d incorporate the element of _surprise.”_  
  
     “Oh, I’d like to see that.” Hunk murmurs, curling his fingers against Lance’s bare sides and reveling in the way Lance wriggles in fitful giggles. The laughter continues even as Hunk presses their lips together, swallowing each burst of residual sniggering until he dissolves into a contented melody of hums, Lance’s tongue playful along the backs of his teeth.  
  
      Hunk feels the force of Lance’s hips as the other rolls up against him, the tip of Lance’s cock leaving slick streaks of precum along the curve of Hunk’s stomach, still hard from previous ministrations.  
  
     “Ah.” Hunk reaches between them, gripping Lance’s cock and stroking it in a smooth slide, the head leaking just below his navel, and Lance lets out a drawn-out whimper into Hunk’s shoulder, “That’s it, buddy. Feel good?”  
  
     Lance responds with a babble of breathy Spanish, mouthing Hunk’s collarbone, punctuating each pant with a light scrape of teeth. Hunk picks up the general intention from all of the times Lance sat him down and insisted on teaching him Spanish cuss words for his own amusement.  
  
     “Yeah, Hunk. _Mierda._ Like that, like that. _Fuck.”_  
  
Hunk presses the pad of his thumb under the head of Lance’s cock, relishing the way Lance’s voice stops short in his throat, entirely incoherent when Hunk traces along the slit in tantalizingly slow strokes. Lance’s hips jerk beneath him and Hunk adjusts upright to press his weight against the other’s thighs, pinning him with Lance’s cock flushed and curved in his fist.  
  
     With one hand stroking Lance in slow, winding motions, Hunk presses the other to the base of Lance’s stomach, feeling it flex and release in cadence to his touches. The flush pooling beneath Lance’s skin disperses in a wash of color from the base of his chest to the tips of his ears peeking out between mussed strands of sweaty hair at his temples.     
  
     “You look good like this.” Hunk comments, eyes trailing up and down Lance’s figure, lanky and lean, long limbs tangled in the sheets beneath him. He detects the quiver of the other’s inner thighs, accompanied by a desperate whimper as Hunk answers the buck of Lance’s hips with a hard press to the head of his cock.  
  
     “H-ha, shut _up.”_ Lance breathes, voice cracking when Hunk kneads the base with the palm of his hand.  
  
     “I mean it.” Hunk insists, reaching with his other hand to wipe at a bead of sweat between Lance’s furrowed brows, “You look really, _really_ good like this.”  
       
     Hunk knows Lance well enough to discern the twitch of Lance’s cock in his palm as a reaction to the compliment, and that the responding showiness to the arch of his back and theatrical sprawl of his arms behind his head are all calls for their continuation.  
  
     “You’re so _hot_. So hard in my hand.” Hunk resumes, his own cock twitching at Lance’s answering babble. Lance’s eyelids close tight, his mouth gaping, cursing and panting a garbled mess of various languages. Hunk thinks he detects a word or two of Altean, and makes a mental note to investigate that particular bead of knowledge later. For now he quickens the pace of his strokes, twisting his wrist at the head in a way he _knows_ drives Lance crazy.  
  
     “I’m so _fucking_ close.” Lance pants, the array of words a muddle of syllables that Hunk only barely catches between short, stifled shouts.  
  
     Vaguely concerned that their activity is disturbing the others roaming about the castle, Hunk presses his palm against Lance’s mouth, though it only prompts Lance to suck Hunk’s index finger into his mouth, followed by his middle finger.   
  
      _“G-God.”_  Hunk gasps, his voice like gravel in the back of his throat, desire like a strike of lightning to the base of his spine. Saliva drips down Hunk’s wrist as Lance works his tongue between Hunk’s fingers, his moans a wet, enthusiastic mess.  
  
     As Lance's tongue works the crook of his fingers, sucking with increased urgency, Hunk finds his hips moving despite himself. He grinds his own cock against the inside of Lance's thigh, the friction only baiting the want building like a tightly knotted ball at the pit of his gut.  
  
     "Lance, holy _shit."_  Hunk breathes, Lance pulling off his fingers with a lewd pop, only to drag his tongue along Hunk's palm lines, breath hot against Hunk's dark, calloused skin.  
  
    _"Fuck."_ Lance pants, pushing his hips upwards into Hunk's grasp, reminding him of his task, "Your fingers aren't the only big thing about you, huh, buddy?" A huff of laughter bursts between Hunk's lips, rolling his eyes at Lance's goofily dazed grin, a somewhat uncoordinated eyebrow waggle gracing the other's brow.  
  
     Leaning down again, Hunk peppers a series of open-mouthed kisses along Lance's hipbone and up his waist, murmuring at the curve of his ribs, "How 'bout you come and then you can check that out for yourself?"  
  
     "I'd be fine with that." Lance replies, the last word drawn out in a breathy sigh when Hunk lowers himself between Lance's thighs, gripping the base of the other's cock firm in his fist while dotting the length with more kisses. With a practiced determination, Hunk opens his mouth around the head, letting the length slide between his lips and push against the pocket of his cheek.  
  
     Lance returns to his incoherent, multilingual babble as Hunk hums deep in his throat, Lance gasping and jerking his hips so suddenly that Hunk gags and pulls off with a somewhat perturbed look.  
  
     “Relax," he prompts, Lance’s hooded brown eyes looking at him over the ridge of his ribs, "Let me do this."  
  
     "I can barely fucking handle your mouth on me, _shit._ " Lance counters, words choked in his throat when Hunk presses the length of his cock against his lips again, chaste.  
  
     "I've got you." Hunk flattens his hand on Lance's stomach again, feeling it quiver with each of his breaths, "Just relax. I've _got_ you, okay?" After a moment, Lance nods and lies back with a mumble of affirmation, and Hunk notices the way the other tries to actively relax his muscles, huffing a long sigh between his teeth.  
  
     "Okay, okay, I'm _dying_ here so can you just—“  
  
     But Hunk has his mouth on Lance before he can finish his sentence, cutting him off with his lips wrapped around the head, tonguing at the slit with the same intent that Lance had applied to his fingers. Adjusting to the set of his jaw, Hunk gradually slides his mouth down Lance's length, judging the other's reaction by the urgent fluttering of abdominal muscles beneath his palm.  
  
     Finding a pace and pressure that makes Lance's fingers curl in the sheets, Hunk bobs his head with an efficient precision; a flick of his tongue here, a hum around the head there. He breaks it down to a science, Lance's cock a piece of engineering that he's determined to work inside and out.  
  
     “I’m _close,_ Hunk." Lance manages, eyes closed tight and toes curled into the fleshy muscle of Hunk's thighs, "I'm gonna come, shit, shit, _shit_."  
  
     Hunk hums his approval, the vibrations nearly sending Lance into a frenzy, chest heaving and thighs shuddering with the force of his impending orgasm. On a daring impulse, Hunk takes a deep breath through his nose and sucks down as close to the base of Lance's cock as he can, curls of coarse hair tickling his nose and forcing him back to the head when Lance chokes out a strangled curse.  
  
     Hunk predicts the spasm of Lance's hips and adjusts to take the violent pulsation of Lance's cock against the inside of his cheek, strings of come pooling hot on his tongue. He holds out for the height of Lance's orgasm before pulling off, beads of come dribbling from the corners of his mouth and sliding back down the under vein.  
  
     He busies himself with nuzzling Lance's cock, soaking in the babble of what he assumes in praise spewing between Lance's lips. Though mostly indistinct, the hand that works its way to his thick mop of hair, affectionate fingers working against Hunk's scalp, is enough to confirm his suspicions.  
  
     Lance tugs him forward, arms collapsing in a heap behind his neck as his tongue licks its way between Hunk's lips in a lazy kiss.  
  
     "Hey." Hunk murmurs playfully when he feels the other twist his lips against his in a very characteristic cringe, "That's _you_ that you're tasting, dude."  
  
     "It's worse than space goo." Lance grumbles, though the statement evidently isn't enough to deter them from making out, or to stop the hand drifting between Hunk's legs. With a bit of prompting from Lance's bony knees at his hips, Hunk rolls over onto his back, Lance scrambling to straddle him with comically wobbly legs. Noticing the amusement in Hunk's expression, Lance juts his bottom lip out, flicking Hunk on the stomach with a wicked finger.  
  
     "Ow, hey!"  
  
     "You'll be the same way when I'm done with you, big guy." Lance proclaims, chin tilted with a confident arrogance that Hunk may have found exasperating if he weren't the direct benefactor of said confidence.  
  
     He watches long enough to witness Lance lick the length of his palm before his arms fall back against the sheets and his eyes drift closed; each touch a burst of light, the backs of his eyelids a starry cluster of constellations.  
  
     And Lance, at its center, with all the steady guidance of the North Star itself.


End file.
